Month: December 2021

Hey, hey, my lovelies!! Yes, we’re inches away from a new year and, no, I’m not going to talk about resolutions or how the slight difference between 2020 and 2021 is that we were allowed outside more. I do not speak on or make resolutions because I have a problem with structure of sorts even though I need it terribly in every facet of my life, I don’t like adhering to a to-do list, I will fail every time and, anyone who knows me knows, I don’t do well at losing/failing. As for the years? Yeah, I’m not getting into that bullshit because it’s pretty much been the same shit for the last 22 months and counting.

Have you ever been talking to someone and you can feel their pain and rage in their words when you bring up the simplest thing and you, literally, have to say, “Damn! Who hurt you?!” Oh, you haven’t? It’s just me? Yeah, I don’t believe I’m the only one who’s dealt with someone who tries to mask their pain and see that shit come bursting thru at the most inopportune time, taking everyone aback for a moment. An example of such behavior could be everyone’s favorite subject: child support! Bring that up around a dude who has a disrespectful baby momma and watch him angrily go after every female in eye sight as though she were the one buying expensive handbags and shoes while their child had ramen noodles for dinner. Be honest, some of y’all got heated from reading that, didn’t you? Calm down, your children ate a well balanced meal, have a nice roof over their heads, clothes on their backs, and are sleeping peacefully in their own beds.

I will be the first to admit that I probably share too openly about the shit I’ve been thru but I want people to know what caused me to be the way that I am to understand I’m not just a bitter, jolted woman. I am a firm believer that you can’t know present me without understanding how I got to be her. There are, however, many people who believe the shit that happened to them has no bearing on who they are but that secrecy and denial only makes the old them come bursting thru at the worst times which are those moments they never see or feel coming which means they’re not prepared or healed from that trauma.

I’ve come to learn that our undealt-with-past tends to tarnish our present and future as they become triggers we usually don’t even know exist because, duh, we moved past that, right? Let me explain something real quick: brushing trauma under the mental rug isn’t dealing with it to heal it and move on with your life in a healthy-ish fashion. I added the ‘ish’ because, really, who’s living a completely healthy life? Oh, you? Okay! I see you! I’m not there yet though so, show a sista some grace, please.

When you experience any type of trauma, you have to work thru and heal it so you can begin to live your best life. The traumas you experienced may be identical to mine or they could be as different as snowflakes but that doesn’t mean one is any more or less significantly traumatic than the other and need to be acknowledged and respected just the same. We all have trauma triggers, ALL OF US, but they are internal demons we have to deal with. Here’s a word of advice: don’t make someone else’s trauma trigger about you; be kind and patient as they walk you thru it; and never expect them to apologize to you for having a reaction.

When you decide to become romantically involved with someone, isn’t that when you have conversations about your pasts? I mean, when I’m chilling with a new Boo thang, I share the most ridiculous stuff that happened to me and we laugh because some of the shit is absolutely hilarious ……………well, it’s funny now but it wasn’t even giggle worthy when I was crying and brokenhearted from being betrayed by the one person I thought would never do such a thing to me. BUT, I share it so the person I am getting to know understands what I’ve been thru so, hopefully, they will learn my triggers and not be the reason I’m sporting the spiffy orange jumpsuit.

If we don’t know someone’s past, we are merely loving the representative who cannot sustain a long-term relationship because there isn’t vulnerability nor transparency. Yes, sharing your past comes with a high level of trust in not being judged for what you went thru and put up with all in the name of love (?). There are things which happened to us in the past that may be repeated by future Boos and have the same result if not spoken on ahead of time, you can’t wait until they exhibit the same behavior of another or you may very well snap. You’ve gone thru enough relationship autopsies to know you are too old and tired to have them continuing to pile up because you kept quiet about your pain. You could have been cheated on by an ex which makes you suspicious when your new Boo doesn’t respond to your text in .02 seconds as if they’re not allowed to be sleep or on the toilet. You could have an ex who was an aggressive, belligerent, abusive drunk and seeing you have more than one drink could trigger a flashback with them and they write you off with no explanation.

I will speak for myself when I say if I don’t see a future with you, you will know the basic, coworker level shit and not the deep, dark secrets I keep buried out of fear of being judged or fitted for a blinged out jacket that makes me hug myself.  You see, sharing that pain and shame comes with a certain degree of trust in another person and if that trust has been betrayed in the past, it will take a little longer to open that door where the skeletons eagerly await release. To have a successful, transparent, healthy relationship, you must shine some light on those skeletons so they don’t escape and cause you drama, heartbreak and pain.

All of this is not to say go on a Tell Ya Bizness tour, sharing shit with random folks, it is to let you know that, once you’re comfortable with someone, let them know what actions betrayed your trust and caused your heart to be held together with Scotch tape. But before you put all your cards on the table with someone else, sit for a good while with that person in the mirror and ask for forgiveness for putting them thru all of that trauma, cry with them to release and heal from the deep rooted pain.

It doesn’t matter if you’re single as a dollar bill or Boo’d up to the GODS, take time out to show yourself some self healing and love as you don’t want to go into the New Year with old shit. Continue to be great, my lovlies!

A couple of weeks ago, I was doing my usual of scrolling thru social media and heard a gospel song from my youth which caused the memories to rush upon me like a flood and overflow thru my eyes causing tears to stream down my face. At this moment, I can’t even tell you the song which triggered the emotions and tears but it hit my soul before my mind could recognize what was happening.

The way that one song hit my spirit, I had to reach out to my sister cousin who graciously shared a long playlist of songs from my childhood which also touched and meant something to my father, his mother and our ancestors. While I listened to the songs, I was taken back in time to when those same lyrics woke me on a Sunday morning along with the smell of bacon and eggs cooking; I reminisced seeing my father singing along to a local radio station playing the songs which reached his soul, all while moving to the melody in his favorite bathrobe. There he was in the kitchen, frying bacon, scrambling eggs and singing along to gospel songs he shared with his mother who he lost before he was ready. When I hear any one of those songs, the smell of bacon embodies me and I always see my daddy standing at the stove, cooking, singing, and feeling the music which connected him with his mother.

It wasn’t until I was a grown woman with children of my own did I learn the significance of that robe he wore until it was damn near sheer thru 2 other marriages (one being a total and absolute shit show) – it was a gift my mother had given him. Trust me when I tell you, if he had his way, he probably would have been buried in it because it meant that much to him and he would’ve wanted to make sure my mother knew he still had and appreciated it. It’s funny to me that it isn’t until we are grown and go thru some jankety ass situations do we realize where we learned certain behaviors from. While my father cherished that robe because it was given to him by my mother, he kept that to himself, never sharing it with her out of fear of rejection and my mother’s mouth. She is my mother, therefore, I can totally relate to the fear he experienced.

But, what I’ve taken the time to learn about myself is that, for most of my life, I’ve shared that inability to communicate with someone I love out of fear of being rejected or made to feel small. As I approach turning half a century quicker than I’d like, I make sure to speak up with the understanding what I feel and have to say matters. Now, granted, there are times when what I have to say goes over as smoothly like a fart in church but the important thing is, I am able to express myself.

Do I believe my parents would have had a long and endearing relationship had they both known how to communicate transparently what was going on within themselves?

Hmmm, as their child, I can’t say for sure but I believe it wouldn’t have been so volatile but that’s coming from a their daughter who’s had much therapy to learn and understand how to communicate with other human beings and I can only say things may not have been the way they were and I’ll leave it at that. I would never say my parents had the perfect and ideal marriage which others envied and they merely grew apart because if I did, I’d be telling a whole ass lie because it was rough in the 70’s. I’ve been chastised for not being angry with my daddy for what transpired between him and my mother but that’s not my burden to carry, he’s my daddy and that’s all I ever charged him with. My parents divorced when I was 6 or so years old but he kept and wore that bathrobe well into my 30’s even though he married 2 different women and received multiple robes as gifts, it was the one from my mother which held true value and love to him.  

Many have accused me of being a hoarder and nothing could be further from the truth; I’m a packrat and there’s a HUGE difference between the two. Do I have a lot of stuff others don’t understand why I refuse to throw away? Yes. Wait, that sounds hoarder-ish because I’ve seen the show.

Seriously, I don’t have piles of newspapers in my corner because there’s an article that I may reference one day or baby dolls piling up because I like their eyes. I will admit I had a mostly drank bottle of Hennessy® because the last time I’d poured a drink from it was for my father and it somehow kept him here with me. Yes, I acknowledge my father has passed and gone on to a better place but that bottle……………………………..that bottle was his because I’m not a brown liquor drinker. I had someone close to me say, “Keeping this little bit of liquor isn’t going to bring him back” and, while that statement was like a knife to my heart and brought forth tears, it was one of the first transparent communications I’d experienced. It’s amazing to me the things we hold on to that were given to us from those who hold a significant place in our hearts. What’s also amazing is knowing if we were at the place in our lives to actually speak up and communicate what was going on, we’d have so many other genuine and authentic memories which only occupy space in our minds and hearts to hold on and share with our beloved because our relationship may have lasted longer than we could’ve ever dreamed of and hoped for.

When we enter into what’s considered a potential relationship, we put our best foot forward in hopes of the other person liking us and, eventually, consider us to be ‘theirs’ to build a life with. We let our representative dictate the beginning and feel things are going well, never taking the time to realize our Boo doesn’t really know us and all the shit we have in our baggage because we wanted to appear…………well, perfect. At forty-fine (9) years old and in the dating game for over a decade, this is hilarious to me. I have had some shit show situations which almost took me out of the dating game permanently but I’ve also had some perfect and ideal scenarios which I now shed tears over due to how I screwed them up on my own.

Yes, I am a brat, have my little tantrum moments, and am pretty much my own saboteur, I own all of this but if you don’t check me and let me know that shit is not okay? It will continue until you can’t take it anymore and just shut down and me out, leading to the infamous relationship autopsy report. I am a firm believer in speaking up when things are going awry, we are too old to be mute and tolerate less than stellar behavior in our potential partner until it becomes too much to bear and we just go silent. We are also too grown not have transparent communication and conversations with the person with whom we share our body and bed; if you can share you body with someone, why can’t you tell them their actions didn’t sit well with you and your spirit? You’ve no problem telling the which position to get into next during sex but you have an issue telling them when their tantrum made you go limp or dried you up?

I don’t know about y’all but I don’t want to be seen wearing a robe 30 years from now from a former partner that’s married to someone else because I didn’t speak up when either of our actions or behavior upset one of us. Personally, if I am with someone and we’ve taken that step to be physically intimate, it should be my GOD given right to share with you how it made me feel to hear another woman call you “Babe/Baby” in my presence and you don’t even flinch which tells me this isn’t the first time it’s happened.

There are so many things wrong with that I’m not sure where to begin so, I’ll just say that no other person should call you what I call you an affectionate name reserved for me. Don’t get me wrong, I know relationships take a huge amount of work to succeed but you have to be willing to let the other person know what scrapes your soul with metal claws. If you don’t speak up about the little shit, it will most definitely become big shit and, essentially, the demise of your otherwise happily ever after. Here’s the reality: we are all children in some facet and if you don’t tell us up front when something bothers you, we will continue on that path and behave in a manner which no one ever took the time to check us on. A huge pet peeve of some people is seeing someone open the fridge, grab the milk and proceed to drink from the container all while standing in their baggy underwear.

Okay, okay, that may just be a female peeve so, I’ll offer a male peeve: a female who pouts over what you deem minor and petty, but is a big deal to her, such as being present.

Look, we all have our peeves and issues but if you speak on what bothers you in the moment it is occurring, you might have a smoother sailing relationship from that point moving forward or learn it truly isn’t that significant and you’re being petty. Hold up, before you jump the gun, this is in no way a guarantee because everyone is not ready to receive in the moment you are ready to share how their lifelong behavior makes them feel but if you come at them respectfully and share how it makes you feel, they might take that into account and do differently the next time. I will throw this disclaimer out there: if they are not fully ready to receive it, be prepared for silence and allow them to process. We all underestimate the power of transparent communication because we feel that, in some way, it makes us weak or vulnerable with another human being.

Wow, amazing how I used weak and vulnerable in the same sentence as though being vulnerable with someone you care about and respect makes you weak, it does not! If there is anyone you’re supposed to be vulnerable with, it’s the person you’re sharing your day, thoughts, dreams, aspirations, bed, and body with, it’s your Boo.

The next time you’re teetering on the fence about whether or not to let someone know their behavior irritates or makes you feel some kind of way, ask yourself this question: If I can share my bed, body, and deepest secrets with this person, all while moaning and screaming their name in the throes of passion, why can’t I let them know when I feel disrespected/disregarded or their behavior is not what I see for my future partner to build and grow with? Too many relationships are just getting by and maintained by representatives so someone isn’t alone. If they can’t handle how you feel or what upsets you, is this really the person for you? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying to just give up and cut them loose, I’m suggesting you open your mouth and speak from your spirit how you feel about things that matter to you. I was raised to understand that you know you are fully comfortable with someone when you can fart around them and not have the desire to crawl into a ball in die but how can you get to that point if you can’t even tell them it upsets you when they call someone else “Baby“?

I will own that I have mementos from previous, and obviously failed, relationships but I know I don’t want to be seen and known for wearing a tattered bathrobe from the person who will always hold a part of my heart and spirit without that person ever having knowledge of it until I’m gone from this earth. I hold on to the items from previous relationships because no one has measured up to what that person was to and for me. Hold up, SHIT! Am I my father?!

Okay, that’s something for me to unpack on my own with plenty of wine. There is nothing wrong with keeping mementos from your past but if that’s how you’re living your life, you’re not making room and space for the right one to sweep you off your feet and share your happy ever after. We hold on to the past because our present sucks ass and holding that hoodie, t shirt, or even looking at that picture take us back to a place in time when everything felt good and right. The first transparent conversation which needs to be held is with you and the person in the mirror so you can own and begin to work on the areas you are less than stellar. For me, I am consciously working on not being a brat as well as more transparent in my actions and words because it cost me what very well could have been my happily ever after. Be great my lovelies, Smooches